Music poems
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Evangeline: Part The Second. I.
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
MANY a weary year had passed since the burning of Grand-Pré,
When on the falling tide the freighted vessels departed,
Crazed
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
'The Spring again hath started on the course
Wherein she seeketh Summer thro' the Earth.
I will arise and go upon my way.
It may be that the leaves of Autumn hid
His footsteps from me; it may be the snows.
The Broken Chords
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
LIKE a worn wind-harp on a barren lea,
Unstirred by subtle breathings of the sea,
Though sweet south-breezes swell the floodtide's flow,
The lyric power in this worn heart of mine
The Death Of Love
© Madison Julius Cawein
So Love is dead, the Love we knew of old!
And in the sorrow of our hearts' hushed halls
Clara Morris (Written for a Benefit Given Mrs. Morris)
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
The Radiant Ruler of Mystic Regions
Where souls of artists are fitted for birth,
Death Of Little Boys
© Allen Tate
When little boys grown patient at last, weary,
Surrender their eyes immeasurably to the night,
The event will rage terrific as the sea;
Their bodies fill a crumbling room with light.
Italian Scenery
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Night rests in beauty on Mont Alto.
Beneath its shade the beauteous Arno sleeps
In vallombrosa's bosom, and dark trees
Bend with a calm and quiet shadow down
Upon the beauty of that silent river.
The Friend's Shadow
© Konstantin Nikolaevich Batiushkov
Sunt aliquid manes; letum non omnia finit;
Luridaque evictos effugit umbra rogos.
PROPERTIUS.
_ __
Earlier Poems : Sunrise On The Hills
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I stood upon the hills, when heaven's wide arch
Was glorious with the sun's returning march,
A' Old Played-Out Song
© James Whitcomb Riley
It's the curiousest thing in creation,
Whenever I hear that old song,
Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 1. The Musician's Tale; The Saga of King Olaf IV. -- Queen Sigrid The
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Queen Sigrid the Haughty sat proud and aloft
In her chamber, that looked over meadow and croft.
Heart's dearest,
Why dost thou sorrow so?
How Long?
© Emma Lazarus
How long, and yet how long,
Our leaders will we hail from over seas,
Master and kings from feudal monarchies,
And mock their ancient song
With echoes weak of foreign melodies?
Italy : 29. Montorio
© Samuel Rogers
Generous, and ardent, and as romantic as he could be,
Montorio was in his earliest youth, when, on a summer-
evening, not many years ago, he arrived at the Baths of
* * *. With a heavy heart, and with many a blessing on
Kore
© Frederic Manning
Yea, she hath passed hereby, and blessed the sheaves,
And the great garths, and stacks, and quiet farms,
And all the tawny, and the crimson leaves.
Yea, she hath passed with poppies in her arms,
Under the star of dusk, through stealing mist,
And blessed the earth, and gone, while no man wist.
Christ at Carnival
© Muriel Stuart
Then I heard human accents answering:
"I am a god, made god by all thy prayers;
Wach stone becomes a god by worshipping;
I am a man who loves thee: in thy town
Many have loved thee, I am one of these."
Tis Finished
© Henry Clay Work
'Tis finished! 'tis ended!
The dread and awful task is done;
Tho' wounded and bleeding,
'tis ours to sing the vict'ry won,
Our nation is ransom'd-our enemies are overthrown
And now, now commoners, the brightest era ever known.
